Hard to feel good about odes to child abuse, but
also this is Dennis Coles aka Ghostface Killah aka America’s Street Laureate. I’ve
been a part-time practicing MC for 30 years now, and my all-time favorite MCs
have shifted and morphed over the years. Back in the day almost got into a
fistfight with my friend Sterling over who was better, Big Daddy Kane or Rakim.
Sadly, I will admit I was wrong (I back Kane), but it took time to realize
that. In college, on the strength of “Eye Examination” alone, I thought Del was
the most brilliant dude ever. Of course, loved Biggie for his ability to take
MC turn it into Mic Control and really exercise that control part. There’s been
so many. But honestly, for lifetime body of work, I might put Ghostface at the
top of that list now, as crazy as that sounds. Just an amazing poet who can mix
the cryptic with the scriptural so easily, add real life flavor even more
easily, and make a track about talking shit to women at the bus stop that’s the
fuckin’ best ever, and then follow that up with some post-Apocalyptic
Illuminati survival shit. Plus, he’s not just a wordsmith, but if you ever saw
him perform you know, he’s as masterful of ceremonies as anybody on stage.

This song of course has the added depth of coming
off a J Dilla beat, which adds one of the greatest ever production minds.
Producer/MC combos and how they work together is often a lost art in making
music today, people just jumping on instrumentals from anywhere, not developing
a relationship with the people they’re making music with. You can tell a lot of
times too. I’m old school in that I love to have someone who is doing the music
while I do the words and we’re building an idea together, rather than separate
from each other entirely, back and forth weaving different layers after both
parts’ input to give shit more depth. That’s not me acting like I’m better than
anybody else – I’m a pretty shitty MC, tbh, but I have my moments when
operating in a steady creative zone with the same folks. Give me concept
projects with a single production force and single MC force working together
any day. And fuck it, while y’all doing that, give me a motherfuckin’ DJ on the
track too.

Monday, August 13

Noted horrorcore rap original Esham he of the
darkest lost zones of Detroit shall suggest to us that wicketshit will never
die, and there is strength to be taken from surviving the horrible darkness
that is late capitalism and cultural collapse of western civilization due to
the avarice and greed of those who have always been positioned at the top of
the pyramid scam, at some point (I hope) one has to embrace the faith that this
is not an end nor an ultimatum nor the final call of apocalyptic purgatory, and
that perhaps a bettershit shall be born from the ashes of this failed
experiment in exploitation, unsustainable personal profit over collective good,
and general dehumanization of each other. But while still immersed in this slow
boil of decline (which appears to be boiling more and more each passing week,
but then again we all know how watched pots boil and we are certainly watching
for bubbles more readily than ever), there is no doubt great solace in dark
wicketshit arts, which take the feelings of total insecurity, lack of safety,
deep paranoia from rabid police state militarization, distrust of random
passersby as “is this man friend or foe? will he give me daps or stabs?”, and
so on and so forth, and these horrible feelings of failure can be exorcised by
embracing the wicketshit in our arts, so that we don’t have to do so in real
life. It helps the machetes remain unbloodied for another day.

starting points

What It Do

Low art formed in low places by a real dude. Bread words on the bedazzling bedeviled internet machines. For flesh and blood contact, or exchanges of treasure or tribute): RAVEN MACK PO BOX 270 SCOTTSVILLE, VA 24590. For 1s and 0s robot contact (or exchanges of virus and vinegraic piss): ravenmack at gmail dot com. Paypal support can be thrown at that email address too if you got it like that.

Might I suggest the best way to enjoy my madness is to scroll to the bottom and get lost in the tag labyrinth.